Weird Sisters
by TinyTurian
Summary: Short stories which take place in Arcadia Bay, Oregon.
1. Chapter 1

**So this fic's mostly going to consist of short stories, and since Life is Strange is only at episode 3 right now I'm just going to assume that after the events of the game Chloe and Max will still be alive and living a more or less normal life in Arcadia Bay, otherwise it'd be really hard for me to write. Anyway, here's the first one.**

* * *

 _Piano Fire_

* * *

"Dude!"

The door slams shut behind Chloe. Max is only realising this now, she'd forgotten, but Chloe always had a habit of announcing herself whenever she entered a room. She still has it. With most people, Max would be annoyed, but when Chloe does it it's okay for some reason. It's… very her.

Right now though, Max would just like to focus on finishing this stupid paper.

Behind her she hears, "I just took…" - dramatic pause - " _The_ biggest shit!"

Saying something like that is also very her, but not in a good way.

"Thank you for letting me know, Chloe." says Max, not bothering to turn around.

"Hey, no problem."

Max taps a few keys on her keyboard. She copy-pastes something from a Wikipedia article, reads the sentence a few times, then erases it and writes it again 'in her own words.' She changes the words "many people" to "a lot of people." That's two words closer to the minimum word count of two thousand. Max looks at the bottom left corner of her screen.

Words: 431

Goddamnit.

"I remember this!"

Max looks over her shoulder to see Chloe propping herself up on the bed with Max's butterfly guitar in her lap. Chloe has been in her dorm room a few times now. Did she really not notice the instrument until now?

"When you're playing this in front of a crowd millions, Max" Chloe says, strumming a few stray chords. "Remember it was me who taught you."

"I remember." Max says absentmindedly. She's trying to scrape up from the gutter of her mind whatever she can remember about the industrial revolution, and trying to sew those pieces together into something with _some_ substance.

She sighs.

The chords turn into a song, and Max recognizes the melody, though she can't place it. It really was Chloe that taught her how to play. Chloe had been letting Max practice on her guitar, calmly giving instructions and moving Max's fingers with her own to form the right shapes, until mom and dad finally had bought Max her own.

That was just before they moved to Seattle. She'd always think of Chloe when she sat in her room there, practicing.

Chloe starts humming lyrics under her breath, and Max finally recognizes the song. They were dancing to it in Chloe's bedroom just a few weeks ago, the day of their reunion. Chloe told her the name of the song and the band, but she can't remember it, and she's too embarrassed to ask about it again. But she likes it.

She's not going to get anything done like this, not with Chloe here. Then again, if Chloe wasn't here, she'd probably be doubled over her desk with her head in her hands, thinking about Kate.

She turns her head to look at Chloe again. It's a weird image, Chloe with her blue hair and ripped black jeans, cradling that cutesy guitar. Siouxsie Sioux's cat eyes on Chloe's shirt are peeking up at her from behind the wood and the butterflies. The lights over the bed are on and Max thinks this would make a cool photo. But she's always thinking that.

"I didn't see your guitar in your room." She says, not thinking about 1800s child labor anymore.

Chloe stops humming, but keeps playing, going into the chorus. "Nah." She says. "I pawned it."

"To pay off Frank?"

"Yeah," Chloe's hands stop moving and she looks at the wall in front of her with her lips slightly parted, like she's thinking about something. In the corner of the room, Max can hear Kate's bunny rustling in its cage. "You know, I bought a Fender from that place. Had to sell it back, though."

Max can picture that, Chloe with a Fender. It's very her, and would have looked better with Ms Sioux. She imagines it was red, that it complimented Chloe's hair. "The pawn shop downtown, next to the old comic book place?" she asks.

Chloe starts playing something else. It must have been a while since she last held an instrument, Max thinks, but her fingers still move so quickly and easily over the neck. It looks so natural, like it's locked into her memory. "The very one. The guy there's still got that same gross beard too."

Max smiles. She remembers that guy, with the beard and the long hair and the sunglasses, she always thought he looked like a roadie. Then she remembers who gave Chloe her first guitar. She wonders if she's thinking about William right now.

"Are you done yet?" Chloe whines, "You said we were gonna rip shit up."

It was Chloe who said that, not Max. She just agreed to. And "rip shit up" probably just means getting a burger or something, and then going to the junkyard to kill time, or maybe to the lighthouse.

But Chloe makes stuff like that fun, somehow.

"Almost." Max lies. There's no way she's finishing this now, and that it is due tomorrow isn't doing anything to motivate her. She could blame her lousy work ethic on her friend's influence, but that would be a big fat lie. She just doesn't want to do this.

Still, she could do herself a favor and try to get a couple more paragraphs down for when she's tearing her hair out trying to finish it at 2 AM later tonight.

She's gonna need coffee. And sugar.

She gets up and closes the window that's been open for a while now. It's gotten pretty cold. She sits back down.

Chloe keeps playing. In the corner, in her cage, Kate's bunny has fallen asleep, ears folded down the sides of her head.

Max stares at the bright, white screen, trying to make words magically appear, blinking when her eyes start to hurt. Chloe gets bored, lays the guitar aside, but Max doesn't notice this. She doesn't notice restless Chloe pacing around the room, poking through her shelves and drawers, until she hears an unidentifiable, choking sort of sound.

Chloe's crouched over Max's dresser, looking down at something in the top drawer. From where she's sitting Max can't see what it is she's looking at. Chloe's body is blocking her view.

"What are you doing?" she asks.

"I didn't know you had this." Chloe says after a moment.

Max isn't sure what she has in that drawer. Some clothes and maybe some books… oh, and that picture.

Max gets up, walking over to where Chloe's sitting on the floor. Chloe pulls her arm quickly over her face when the floorboards creak behind her. Max peeks over her shoulder.

It's that photo alright.

"That feels like forever ago now, doesn't it?" she says.

"Yeah."

They look at the photograph, at themselves smiling back. Little Max and little Chloe, pirates.

"Remember how you kept saying you were too old for trick or treating, and I pretty much had to hold you down and force that eye patch over your head?" Chloe asks.

"I'm glad you did." Max says. "Remember how much candy we got that time?"

"My stomach's cramping just thinking about it."

Chloe doesn't seem to realise how long she's been staring at it, but Max doesn't want to snap her out of her spellbound state. It's kind of funny, and kind of sweet, so she watches the back of Chloe's head stay completely still while she's gripping the photograph with both hands. She's smudging the corners, but Max doesn't mind.

Suddenly, Chloe returns to the land of the living. She throws the photo back in to the drawer and stands up almost comically fast, slamming the drawer shut, breathing out.

"Can we go get that burger now?" she says.

"Yeah, okay."


	2. Chapter 2

**I really just wanted to write something with Kate and Chloe.**

* * *

 _Beneath Medicine Tree_

* * *

She had a plan and everything. She should have stuck to it.

It's Kate's fourth day of staring up at bright, fluorescent hospital lighting hanging from a white hospital ceiling. It's her fourth day of being chained to a stiff, metal bed. Well, not chained, literally, but she's not allowed to leave, and she doesn't have any desire to.

Inert gas asphyxiation, or just charcoal burning. Just the name made it sound like a perfectly decent way to go. They had an old grill in the garage back home that the family hadn't used since she was a kid. She would have brought it up to her room after everyone went to bed, locked her door, lit up the grill and gone to sleep. Then she'd fully be in the Lord's hands.

Her family came up to Arcadia Bay twenty-four hours after her suicide attempt, and tomorrow they would be taking her home, but they weren't here right now. No one was. She'd been lonely her first day in the big hollow room with nothing but empty beds, with no one coming to see her except Max, and a couple of teachers.

It would have been fun to share a room with an old man or woman, she'd thought. They could have chatted peacefully through the white plastic divider. The old man or woman could have told her about the thirties and forties and fifties, and she'd have something distant and unfamiliar to think about.

Since her family arrived though, she's been happy for any time to herself she can get.

There's a whole stack of books on the little table by her bed, but none of them seemed to want to be opened, and a low droning sound is seeping out of every electronically powered object in the room. She wants to scream at the ceiling above her. She supposes that's better than wanting to shrink away into nothing.

And the nurse comes in and tells her she has a visitor.

She hopes it's Max, and at the same time she doesn't. She still doesn't know what to say to her except sorry, and Max doesn't want to hear that. She feels bad for not being grateful, for regretting having come down.

But she knows it's not Max, because Max was here at nine this morning.

The girl who comes in is tall and has blue hair and is wearing boots and a black leather jacket over a sleeveless shirt with some band on it and Kate recognizes her from school and feels embarrassed and wonders why she's here. She's Chloe, that girl who got kicked out.

The girl seems embarrassed too."Hey." She says, unconsciously pulling a hand through her blue hair.

"Hi." Kate says.

The girl approaches the bed and looks around for a chair, but there aren't any, so she just stands awkwardly a few feet away from Kate.

"I don't know if you remember me…" she starts off."

"No, I do." Says Kate. She knows every face at Blackwell, and most of the names. Being alone leaves you with a lot of time to sit and look. Chloe seems surprised.

"Oh. Well, yeah, I used to go to Blackwell and I'd see you around. My name's Chloe." She adds unnecessarily.

Kate nods.

She says, "I heard about…" she motions in Kate's general direction "…you know, and thought I'd come here." Her hands go in her pockets and she looks around the room again and mutters, "…there really isn't a fucking chair around here?"

Kate wonders if she should offer Chloe to sit down at the side of the bed, but decides this is already weird enough as is.

Shifting her weight back and forth between her feet, she starts over. "I know this is probably really lame since we've never talked or anything, like I'm sure everyone is acting like they're your friend right now…"

Kate would agree, if anyone else but Max had come by.

"…but Max has been talking about you a lot and I just thought I should come say, uh... something."

So she knows Max. Well that explains it.

"Like, you always seemed cool and," she motions with her hands again, "this… shouldn't have happened to you."

"Thank you." Kate says, and it feels like she means it.

She hopes it's not her making Chloe this jumpy, like she's making her feel guilty or something. She always seemed so confident at school. Even though she's probably just hear because Max told her to come, Kate's kind of happy she's here. She's a lot more colorful than her parents.

"Oh, and I heard David was being a dick to you." Chloe suddenly says. "Sorry."

Kate isn't sure why Chloe's apologizing for that, but she says "It's not a problem."

"Really?" Chloe eyes the steel bed, "Seems like it kinda was."

That makes things a little bit awkward.

Chloe shoves a hand into one of her back pockets and pulls something out. "And I had… a thing with me… for you."

It looks like a piece of paper. Chloe almost slams it down on top of Kate's pile of books, nearly knocking it over. The side Kate can see has nothing on it.

"Um, I should probably go now, right?" Chloe says more than asks, and without really waiting for a reply heads for the door. She turns around halfway there. "Max says hi, by the way."

Kate attempts a smile. "Thanks. I know."

In the doorway Chloe gives her an awkward sort of half way. Kate tries to return it, but before she can get an arm out from under the covers the girl is already gone. Kate looks at the spot where she was standing just a second ago, then at the white clock above the doorway. She was barely here five minutes.

She remembers the piece of paper Chloe left. She stretches to reach it, then holds it an arm's length above her face, trying to block those damn fluorescent lights.

It's one of Max's polaroids. Or, well, it's a polaroid, but who else's could it be?

In the photo she sees Cinnamon in her cage, and through the bars she sees Max's room, where she's only been once or twice. She's glad Cinnamon's been staying with her for the last few days; she wouldn't trust her to anyone else. Kate's taken so many pictures of him over the years, but this beats all of them. There's so much captured in it, so many little details hidden in such a tiny frame. She didn't know a picture of a rabbit could be so artistic.

Max really is an amazing photographer.

Kate turns the paper around in her hands, just to make sure Chloe hasn't written anything on it, no "get well soon" or any stupid smiley faces. No, nothing. That's good.

She stares at the photo for a few minutes, imagining Max lying flat on the floor in her dorm room so she can get a good shot of Cinnamon. To her own surprise, she's smiling. She's not sure if it's because of the photo or the strange girl that left it here, but it doesn't matter.

She places the photo on her little nightstand, leaning it against the pile of books so that she can still see it lying down. The electronic hum starts creeping back into her ears.

Kate turns her head a few times, trying to find the most comfortable position. She shuts her eyes, but the light above pierces through her eyelids no matter how she turns, and all she sees is white. She turns over and looks at the polaroid again. Her family will probably come back soon. She really should try to get a little sleep before then.

She closes her eyes again, and thinks about nothing.

* * *

 **I had no idea what to name Kate's bunny**


	3. Chapter 3

**This one is pretty pointless, but so was the last one so...** ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

 **Oh and sorry for frank being a little nasty...**

* * *

 _Getting It Wrong_

* * *

The bathroom at the Two Whales Diner was like a second home to him at this point.

He poked the skin at different spots along his forearm, knowing there wasn't a single working vein in the crook anymore. When he found nothing, he slapped it a few times and waited. Patience. He was a fuckup, but he was good at this. He was tying off with his earphones for Christ's sake. On the floor next to him were several empty syringes, none of them his, as well as a ripped up poster proclaiming the dangers of drug use.

If Joyce didn't want junkies in her diner, she should invest in some blue-tinted fluorescent lighting.

A little river popped out of his arm, only slightly discolored, and he sunk the needle into it, breathing out at the feeling of the cold, hard object going inside him. It was like when a girl reached around and stuck a finger up your ass while you were fucking her, only better.

This was going to be his last hit, then he was sticking to pot and prescription pills.

…maybe some ecstasy on weekends.

He walked out of the diner into the brisk morning. He strolled over the mostly empty parking lot in the direction of the barking coming from his RV.

He shoved the key into the keyhole. When he turned it he hit a wall. He'd forgotten to lock the door again.

"There, there, girl."

Maisy jumped at him the second he opened the door, steadying herself against his belly with her front paws so that she was standing on her hind legs. He rubbed her back and head and she licked his hand, until she finally dropped back to all fours. He went to the front of the car and sat down in the driver's seat and stared out the window at the beige concrete wall in front of him. He leaned back and didn't think. He felt good, and pretty soon he wouldn't, so he gave himself a moment.

The roads up to the suburban neighbourhoods were steep and winding, but as with every place in Arcadia, it would only take a few minutes to get there. So he drove slowly, took his time. He had one hand resting on the steering wheel and the other on Maisy's head, who was sitting attentively beside him. He chewed on the inside of his cheek, but not hard enough to draw blood.

He drove onto the first street of villas, all houses bright pastel colors, the lawns rich and dark from the Oregon rain, but still mostly well-trimmed. Little garden gnomes and porcelain animals were scattered in the grass, and he remembered a time when he lived in a house like one of these. It didn't seem like that long ago.

The RV passed a house he recognized as the one Rachel's friend lived in... Chloe something. Then he realised how close he was to home. It was weird, when he really thought about it. Weird that Rachel and her friend were both in high school, weird that this girl lived so close to his childhood home. They had probably passed each other on these streets a thousand times over the years without even noticing each other.

He pulled up outside his mother's house and got out of the car, closing the door behind him just before Maisy could get out. It was sunny and there wasn't a single person out in the streets except for him. He trudged up to the house and rang the doorbell. The peach-colored paint was peeling off in a few places, and the grass on the lawn was noticeably longer than the neighbours'. He felt bad. He should come up here and help out sometime.

Some other day though.

His mother opened the door. She was surprised to see him. She didn't seem to have enough energy to do more than raise her eyebrows a little to show it, but he could figure it out. "Francis," she said in her soft voice.

"Hey ma." He said.

She led him into the house and he closed the door behind him. He lingered in the hallway a moment when she went into the kitchen. He always felt strange coming back here. Eerie, like the beginning to a bad horror movie. He found the light switch and flipped it on and followed his mother into the kitchen.

She was filling up the water boiler in the sink, so her back was turned to him when he came in. He stood with his hands in his pockets, looking out the window at his car. He could hear Maisy barking.

He watched her make coffee. "How are you?" he said.

"Oh, I'm…" she trailed off. "I don't know. I'm fine."

She took two cups out of the cupboard above the stove – same place they'd always kept them – the one with the flowers and the one with the butterflies. It irked him a little. He'd always had the one with frogs.

She put two spoons of sugar in one cup; she still remembered how he liked it. She took hers black.

She was only fifty-two, but she looked so much older. She carried their coffees into the living room with her back hunched, and he thought he probably walked the same way. She'd had the floral-patterned dress she was dressed in since he was a kid, and her hair had gone gray so long ago he couldn't remember a time when it wasn't.

She should move somewhere smaller, he thought. Somewhere less lonely.

She sat down in one of the armchairs by the coffee table; he found his place on the checkered eighties couch. She took a sip of her coffee.

He looked around in the dimness of the room, at the dining the table by the window, at the fat, black TV with the VHS player under it, at the brown tapestry, which was peeling off just like the paint outside. He could almost see it running down the wall in 2-inch broad strips, decaying right before his eyes. Even the fake flowers on the table and in the windows were hanging their heads in lament after all these years. He supposed even plastic withered eventually.

When he realised ma was waiting for him to speak, he quickly said, "I need some money."

"I figured as much." She replied softly. He realised then she already had her handbag ready.

He took a drink from his cup, the one with the flowers. "It's not for drugs."

"Okay."

She waited for him to continue. When he didn't, she set her cup down with a click.

"What's it for then? I know it's not to bail your friends out of jail. That's what you said last time and then…"

He held up his hand. "I know, ma." She looked at him, and he opened his mouth, pointed at the brown rows of teeth. "I need new ones."

"Oh." She said, and she seemed pleasantly surprised, "Why?"

"What do you mean?"

"Why do you want new ones?"

"It's, uh …" he found his hand beginning to crawl up to the crook of his neck. He probably shouldn't mention Rachel. "I'm just… trying to make a change, you know?"

She didn't seem to buy that.

"…and there's this girl." He added, stifling his voice.

Her lips twitched in what almost looked like a smile. She reached into her handbag. While she looked through it, he drank the last of his coffee. Ma really needed to buy bigger cups.

"What do things like these cost?" she asked.

"Oh, uh... I don't really know." He realised as he said it.

She handed him her wallet. "Take all of it," she said, "If it's not enough just come back and I'll give you more."

He took all of the bills in her fat, brown leather wallet. He didn't know how much it was, but it looked like a lot.

He felt real shitty.

"Thank you, ma, I really mean it. I'm sorry I keep…"

"Don't worry about it." She took the empty wallet from him. Then she took his hand. "You know I don't mind, Francis, as long as you use it for something good. And I'm always happy to see you."

"Me too, ma. Thank you."

* * *

He'd been so long inside the clinic Maisy was asleep on the floor when he came back. The sound of the motor starting and rain water spluttering against the window woke her up, and she bit at something that wasn't there, protecting herself from whatever she thought was approaching.

"Don't worry, girl. It's just me. We're going to see Rachel."

He looked at Maisy in the rear view mirror and he smiled at her, and that made him smile for real.

He couldn't wait for Rachel to see these.

* * *

 **I had to name a character's pet _again_... **

**I hope the change to past tense at the end wasn't too confusing.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Sort of implicated pricefield? I guess? idk**

* * *

 _The Cold and Lovely_

* * *

She was cold, she was wet and she was miserable, and she was pretty sure Chloe was too.

She'd figured this little adventure of theirs would end badly, they usually did, but she'd hoped it'd be in a more exciting way than this. She was clutching her phone in one hand, shielding it from the rain with the other, staring furiously at the screen as if to will her recipient to pick up.

Third time, and nothing. Damn.

"Not answering?" Chloe called from behind the tree. There was like two feet between them, but she had to shout to overpower the rain.

"No," she muttered. "He's probably with Brooke."

As the red battery symbol on her phone blinked and then died, Chloe came around the trunk, poking her head into Max's line of vision. "Aw, Max, are you jealous? That's so sweet!"

"I'm not in the mood Chloe." She snapped.

She shoved her phone into her pocket. Under the hammering of the rain, she could barely hear Chloe muttering, head turned in the other direction.

"…fuck's sake, just tryna lighten the mood."

Things got quiet for a moment under the pine tree, except for the sound of rain hitting _everything_. They looked hopelessly at Chloe's car in the middle of the road getting increasingly drenched in the flood. "You really don't know anyone else with a car?" Chloe asked, sounding as given up as Max felt herself.

"No one who isn't a complete ass." She said bitterly.

Chloe bit her lip. Now that they were on the same side of the tree, they had to stand pretty close to keep under its branches. Not that it did all that much for protection. It was getting a little awkward.

"So… are we walking?"

It was just how their relationship worked. It was how it always had worked. Chloe did something stupid, and when things went to shit she looked to Max for guidance, letting her direct them out of whatever mess she'd gotten them into. Max didn't really mind though. If she let Chloe try to fix their hitches they'd probably both be dead by now. Though knowing her, at least they'd probably been offed in some hilarious way.

Sadly, though Max could wield time, she couldn't do shit about the weather.

"Yeah, I guess, unless you feel like paying fifty bucks for a cab."

Chloe shook her head a resounding no.

They remained a few more seconds, not wanting to leave the relative shelter of the tree and suddenly very thankful for the minimal warmth of their shoulders pressing against each other. They took a few uneasy steps out of the ditch and back onto to the road. If they had gotten any drier during their time under the pine, that feeling was lost immediately.

"Fuck…" they muttered in unison. When she'd been internally cursing Warren for not being there to help her out of yet another shitty situation, she'd almost forgotten that every piece of clothing on her was clinging to her skin like slugs to tree bark.

Cold, slimy slugs.

That they were both pretty much dressed for summer weather didn't help.

Chloe looked back, a little worried, at her car as they began to trudge in the opposite direction. "I don't think anyone's gonna steal that piece of shit." Max assured her.

"Of course no one's gonna steal it, Max." she said. "There's no fucking gas in it."

"Oh yeah. And also cause it's a piece of shit."

"Whatever."

Though she was kind of pissed at Chloe, Max knew this was partly her own fault. For one, she should have known an impromptu road trip to nowhere in particular was a bad idea, like, worse than usual. Also, she should have had enough sense to check the weather report, or at least figure Chloe wouldn't have any idea of how much gas she had in the tank. Still, she was going to reserve her right to be angry. It was hard not to be.

She couldn't even guess how long it would take to walk back to the bay. For all she knew they wouldn't be back until nightfall. She'd always been bad at converting car time into walking time. They'd only gotten an hour down the road, but judging by the tall, tall trees and lack of anything else around them, that was apparently enough to get you right into the middle of nowhere. And Chloe had been driving pretty damn fast. No wonder they ran out of juice so quick.

She knew she should have stuck to being timid.

They took turns sneezing. Max hadn't thought it possible to get any wetter than they already were, but it was. She'd accepted the fact that she was going to be a snivelling, bed-ridden mess for days after this. She hoped the school nurse was stocked up on cold medicine. She was going to need it, as well as jelly beans. To help it go down.

Her shoes had gone so soft from the water they'd absorbed she felt like she was wearing two very wet pairs of socks. The cold was the worst on her feet. And on her nipples, but she tried not to think about that.

She'd always been self-conscious of her sneezes. She'd never had those cute, high-pitched kitty-cat sneezes every girl she knew seemed to have. They were nothing compared to Chloe's atomic bomb of a sneeze though. They always made her feel better about herself, and she was hearing a lot of them right now.

She wondered if they took after their dads in the sneezing regard.

"So, Maxine" Chloe said mock-seriously, wiping the snot away from her nose with her tank top after a particularly impressive one," everything going well at school?"

Max said nothing and kicked a small stone that appeared in front of her. It rolled a considerable distance ahead of her. Thirty minutes ago they'd been laughing their asses off in Chloe's car at every other stupid word that came out their mouths. Now everything seemed shitty.

They kicked that stone down the watery road for a good fifteen minutes.

"Wanna see if we can get it all the way back to Arcadia?" Chloe said.

"Nah."

"I found my old Game Boy in a box in my room. The one you used to borrow at lunch at school."

"Cool. Did you still have your games for it?"

"…No."

They'd been walking for an hour and a half, maybe two, when Max burst out laughing. At the same time, she felt something soft violating the crook of her neck. She screamed and spun around, punching the thing, for a second imagining the biggest, hairiest spider she could. Instead she just saw Chloe, standing there laughing at her.

"Chloe, what the hell are you..."

"Dude, that was awesome! I thought you weren't even ticklish!"

"That's only when you do it with your hands."

In her hands, Chloe held two ludicrously long reeds, waving them around with the soft, fluffy ends pointed at Max.

"Where did you get those?"

"They were growing back there, by the bend near the water." Chloe pointed down the road with one of her plants.

"Come on, Max!" she threw one of the reeds at Max. The rain knocked it down mid-air and landed it in the mile-long puddle that used to be the road. "Let's have a sword fight!"

Chloe had been walking a few paces behind her the entire time, and Max didn't get a good look at her until now. Her hair had gone completely black and clung to the sides of her face. She looked like a wet dog, with a big stupid smile plastered on her face. The rain had made part of her clothes go see-through as they clung to her, and Max didn't need that. She was already embarrassed enough about her own state.

She bent forward and picked the weapon off the ground. Stupid as it was, she supposed - actually, she knew - having a plant-sword-whatever-fight with Chloe in the middle of a country road in the pouring rain with nothing pine trees surrounding them from earth to sky would be pretty fun. She was going to knock her BFF on her ass.

Chloe let out her fiercest battle cry and swung her reed as hard as she could, only for it to flop anticlimactically against Max's. Max laughed, and took a step back, preparing to launch her own attack.

She didn't even have time to move before Chloe screamed.

"Um, Chloe…"

"OH MY… FUCK!"

"Chloe, what-"

"MAX, LOOK!"

Chloe dropped her reed and held up her palm for Max to see. Even from where she was standing Max could see the deep black cut in it and, even clearer, the dark red blood pouring out of it with the rain and onto the road.

"Shit." She muttered. "Did the reed do that?"

Chloe stared at her, mouth hanging open.

"Fucking… YEAH! JUST DO SOMETHING, MAX!"

* * *

 **Based on a true story. Kind of.**


	5. Chapter 5

**This one's insanely short and probably bad umm... here it is.**

 **(also Chloe says a naughty word. cover your ears)**

* * *

 _Spaced_

* * *

"Rachel..."

...

"Get out of my bed, Rachel Amber..."

...

"Rachel! Get out of my bed, you cunt."

...

 _Finally there's a response. Rachel laughs, stoned out of her mind._

 _Smiling:_ "Did you just call me a c-word?"

 _Climb onto the bed, on top of Rachel, smile back._

"No, I called you a cunt."

 _She laughs._

"Come on, hurry up."

 _Rubbing her eyes:_ "You don't want me naked in your bed?"

 _Of course I do._

"My douchebag overlord said he was coming home at three."

"And?"

"And the big arm's on twelve and the little ones on three."

 _She thinks for a moment._

"Oh."

 _I like her when she's high._

 _Get off her, pick her clothes up off the floor._

"At least I'm not getting you pregnant." _she says._

 _Rachel sits up when I throw her tank top over her face._

 _Voice muffled:_ "Help me."

 _I really like her when she's high._

 _Help Rachel put on her bra. Help her get her shirt over her head and her arms into the holes._

 _She does her underwear and jeans herself, needs help with her socks and shoes though. Her feet keeps missing them, starts laughing._

 _She stands up, kissing my cheek._

 _Blinking sleepily:_ "Well, I'm off."

 _And she climbs out the window._

 _A sudden voice of reason._

 _Probably shouldn't let her go that way right now._

"Wait."

 _She pokes her head back inside._

"I'll walk you to the door."

 _I really like her._

 _I really like Rachel Amber._

 _Downstairs, a moment of compassion._

"Here."

 _Hand her the little plastic bag._

"Here's your weed back."

 _What's left of it, at least._

"Thanks."

 _The door opens the moment Rachel shoves it in her pocket._

"Hello, Joyce. Hello Mr. Madsen."

"Hello, Rachel." says Joyce.

 _David only nods at her._

 _And then Rachel slips out between their bodies and she's gone._

 _They look at me for a moment._

 _Go back upstairs._

 _Sit in the window and watch Rachel walk down the street until I can't see her anymore._

* * *

 **This is supposed to be at like an early stage of their relationship.**


End file.
